


Strong Men Don't Cry

by Aly_san



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Angst, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_san/pseuds/Aly_san
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't cry." That's what he told himself, over and over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong Men Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sad but hopefully not that bad. Set after Manolo dies, and before Maria wakes up.

“I can’t cry.”

That’s what he told himself, over and over. As he saw Maria’s motionless body in Manolo’s arms. As he touched her still-warm skin, and felt no pulse. As he shouted cruel words he didn't truly mean at his best friend. As he returned to find his best friend also motionless on the ground. As he felt his skin, too, and felt no pulse. As he stood on the bridge leading to San Angel, staring at the water, almost wanting to jump into it and join those he just lost. As he clenched his fist and knew he couldn't.

“I can’t cry.”

A real man wouldn't cry. That’s what his father would have said. Strong men don’t cry. No matter what, men don’t cry. Even when faced with the death of a loved one. Even when looking at the still, emotionless faces of his two best friends. His brother, and the love of his life. They were both dead, but still he cannot cry.

And he tried. God, he tried. But he thought of the things he said to Manolo. The last words he said to him. “What did you do?” “It’s your fault.” “You should have protected her.” Those were the last words Manolo ever heard from him. Full of anger, hatred, and blame. And he thought of all the things he didn't get to say to Maria. He never told her just how much he loved her. And he never told Manolo just how much he loved him, either. Both of his best friends, the people he cared about most in the entire world. He could never say anything to them again.

He cried. He excused himself from Maria’s family, from the other mourning townspeople. He secluded himself, and he cried. Burying is face in his hands, gripping his hair, gritting his teeth, letting out strangled wails unfitting of a man of his prestige. He prayed no one heard him, he prayed that his tears would stop before anyone came looking for him. He prayed that somehow he could take their place, bring them back and let him die, instead.

Through blurred, red eyes, he looked at the glowing medal on his chest. “Eternal life.” They should have had it. Maria, Manolo. Both of them deserve to live more than he did. They were so much better than him. Why should he live, instead of them? He ripped the medal from his shirt and threw it across the room, shouting in rage and despair. It clinked off the walls, bouncing here and there before it skidded on the floor and clattered quietly back at his feet. Of course.

He cried until his head hurt and his eyes ached. He cried until no more tears came, and then he still sat, gasping and whimpering, until he had no energy to do anything but breathe. He almost wished he could stop doing that, too. But he couldn't. He retrieved the medal and stood, putting it back onto his shirt and covering it with his other medals. He couldn't die. If Maria and Manolo couldn't live, he would live for them. No matter how much it hurt, or how much he had to cry, he would live for them. He would live, and fight, and protect the people they loved. He would protect the town and everyone in it, because that's what they would have wanted. 

Joaquin would live. He would live, solely to remember them.


End file.
